A Sidestep Before the Locket
by ElishevaNadir
Summary: While Hermione has unexpectedly become separated from Harry and Ron while at the Ministry, Hermione must keep pretenses up if she's to make sure Umbridge and a certain Death Eater don't suspect her of being an imposter.


Title: A Sidestep Before the Locket

Author: Elisheva Nadir

Beta: None.

Warnings: Questionable consent, while my story contains this particular topic I do not condone coercive (or forced) sex in real life and maintain that this is pure fiction and should be treated as such. Non-canon compliant.

Summary: While Hermione (as Mafalda) waits for the opportune time to snatch back the locket and meet up with Ron and Harry, Hermione bumps in to Yaxley and is surprised by a certain unknown romance.

AN: I was puzzled that there were not any Yaxley-centered stories here on AFF and decided (very spur of the moment) to slap together a tid-bit and shove it out in to the open. My other note is that, after diligently searching, I could not find a generally accepted canon first name for Yaxley and came to the conclusion that I would have to do the dreaded naming myself. I went through several names (which I will post at the end of the story) before I belatedly settled on Ruarc.

Disclaimer: All HP related characters, places and ideas are intellectual propriety of J.K. Rowling and do not belong to me.

—

Hermione felt her heart pound staccato in rapid succession, each beat more painful and quicker than the last until she thought she'd pass out from utter terror. Umbridge stood no more than two feet from her in all her pink crowning glory and was chatting away as if Hermione was Mafalda. She was. Mafalda that is. And she best remember that if she was going to help Ron and Harry get the locket.

"Mafalda? Are you paying attention?" Umbridge harrumphed, turning enough to give Hermione—Mafalda—a petite glare and clearing her throat in that obnoxious, high pitched habit of hers.

"Of course Madame Senior Undersecretary," Hermione said quietly, staring a hole into the floor of the lift as it lurched about. Hermione darted a brief glance at Umbridge, noticing the way she further crinkled her nose, giving her an even greater appearance of looking like a pug. _Rotten_ _bitch_, Hermione thought viciously and couldn't help careening in to the wall of the lift as it came to an abrupt halt.

Umbridge seemed nonplussed by the sudden loss of motion—or perhaps her squat figure and god awful pink shoes enabled her to maintain a greater semblance of balance and remain a sight more dignified than Hermione was. That or Umbridge was using a clever sticking charm but Hermione didn't pay that train of thought too much more attention as she realized Umbridge was calling for her again and looking extremely impatient.

"Honestly, girl, are you sure you are all right?" Umbridge demanded, trying unsuccessfully to cross her arms over her chest. Whether her chest was too ample, her arms too short or her overall being perhaps _too_ much, Hermione was unsure but Umbridge was able to look threatening and ridiculous all at the same time with her barely crossed arms.

"Just some slight nausea Madame Senior Undersecretary," Hermione said, stepping off of the lift and jumping as the doors snapped closed and rapidly disappeared.

"Oh! Enough of the formalities Mafalda. I've told you before, call me Dolores. You act as if I am going to cart you off like those horrid Muggle-borns," Umbridge said, a toad-like grin spreading across her face as she gave another one of those high-pitched giggles that sounded more like she was trying to _delicately_ clear her throat. Hermione went pale, a seemingly appropriate response as Umbridge giggled again and started waddling towards the blood purity hearing they were suppose to attend.

The closer they got the more Hermione felt that overwhelming sensation of cold dread creep up her spine until she was faint with it. What if her potion didn't hold up? What if she said the wrong thing? Could she sit by and watch innocent witches and wizards be punished? What if Harry or Ron were caught? How was she going to get away before her potion ran out of time? And how the _hell_ was she suppose to get that stupid locket?

"…and then they simply said, 'Dolores, you must head these hearings,' and I of course agreed but it is just a shock I tell you at how many false witches and wizards I have to…" Hermione tuned Umbridge out again, concerned more about the cold sweat she had broken out in and that she was panting and beginning to shake.

"Dolores." Hermione gave a short lived shriek of surprise as a low, gravelly voice husked Umbridge's name seemingly right in to her ear. Whipping around Hermione was confronted by Yaxley and thought that perhaps she had died. Or was stuck in a nightmare where the sole mission of each occupant was to try and scare Hermione to death.

"Ah, Yaxley," Umbridge said, turning as well but at a more sedate pace. She still wore a smug grin on her face but it seemed more in order to enact niceties than that she genuinely was glad to see Yaxley. "Yes?" Umbridge asked as several seconds ticked by where Yaxley simply stood there, brooding, Hermione clutched her purse and parchments to her chest and Umbridge gently rocked back and forth on her heels.

"I have papers for you," Yaxley said, his face drawn in to a frown. The few times that Hermione had seen Yaxley he had always been frowning or wearing a grave expression. It gave his weathered features a solemn appearance and made his blue eyes seem darker and yet brighter. As if the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was always searching, keen to alight on any impropriety.

"Well, where are they?" Umbridge demanded, her short arms moving so that she stood akimbo for a moment.

"Elsewhere, I would prefer not to be seen holding these," Yaxley said by way of explanation. Umbridge harrumphed and rolled her eyes, turning away as she waved a hand at Hermione and said, "Mafalda will pick them up for me. Honestly, Ruarc… Mafalada, be a dear." Hermione wetted her lips, staring almost longingly after Umbridge as she waddled away and left her alone with Yaxley.

"Yes, Dolores," Hermione called weakly, wishing more than anything that a known Death Eater was not waiting for her to follow him. He would suspect her for sure. Umbridge was largely concerned about herself, her voice, herself and anything to do with her job that directly related back to how amazing she was. And herself. Yaxley was not so oblivious to abnormalities and was certainly suspicious enough to think the slightest variation was cause for alarm.

"Come," Yaxley intoned, taking Hermione's arm. Hermione stumbled alongside Yaxley, giving Umbridge one last look before she was bustled down a different corridor and in to a vacant room.

"Were you worried?" Yaxley asked, his tone and voice still gravely serious but the rough, work worn hand that came up and cradled the side of Hermione's face was anything but grave. The gentle caress was so unexpected that all Hermione could do was look up in to Yaxley's face and sputter a few nonsensical sounds, grasping for the right words.

"I know we have a greater chance of being caught but it has been over a week," Yaxley said, his eyes roaming over Hermione's—Mafalda's—body.

"R-r-ruarc," Hermione said, stammering to find Yaxley's first name and hoping that it befitted their _relationship_, whatever that may be. "Surely this can,"

"I can't bear to wait another week," Yaxley said, knocking the purse and parchments Hermione held out of her hands and bringing both of his hands to capture her face as he lent in to kiss her. In utter disbelief, Hermione stood stock still, her mouth slightly open and her eyes crossing as she forgot to close them and was presented with Yaxley's face not eve an inch from her own. Yaxley gave a slight groan as his tongue ghosted against her lip and slipped in to Hermione's mouth, sliding against her tongue like he had done this a thousand times. Thinking on it, Hermione reflected, he probably had. Mafalda and Yaxley very obviously had some sort of sexual relationship going on and if Hermione wasn't careful she was going to sabotage herself.

Hesitantly, Hermione closed her eyes, trying to respond back to the kiss as she gently placed the palm of her hands against Yaxley's chest. He was tall, seemingly well muscled, he tasted nice—not like Viktor that one time he had stolen a quick kiss from her after lunch—and he was very good at kissing. Hermione tried her best to act interested even though she was more worried about the mechanics of kissing Yaxley back than if it was how Mafalda usually kissed.

"Don't worry Mafalda," Yaxley husked, his voice sounding even louder and more gravelly this close. It seemingly did funny things to places low in Hermione's body. "No one will interrupt us, I promise," He said, removing one hand from the side of her face to reach for his wand and perform a non-verbal charm on the door. Hermione looked over at the door and couldn't help the painful lump she swallowed down. She was going to be sick.

"Ruarc," Hermione whispered, eyes darting between the door and Yaxley's intense gaze. "Dolores is expecting me shortly and,"

"The toad can wait," Yaxley said, giving a slight smug grin as he moved to circle his arms around Hermione and rest his hands on the curve of her ass. Hermione gasped as he pulled her sharply against his frame, his not so subtle erection pressing firmly in to her stomach through their many layers of clothing. "I, however, cannot wait." Hermione swallowed thickly again, panting gently as she nodded her head. This was one of those moments in life where things were not going at all to plan and she was going to have to deviate by drastic measures. And feelings were going to be hurt. Hopes possibly smashed and certain ideals usurped.

"I really must insist," Hermione said, trying again to get away from Yaxley.

"And so must I," Yaxley purred, diving in again to kiss her. Hermione couldn't avoid his mouth pressing against hers and fought not to reach for Mafalda's wand. Her own was inside Mafalda's purse so that no one would suspect her and it was not guaranteed that Mafalda's wand was good at charms or spells. Hermione wasn't even sure if Mafalda's wand would do anything more than sparkle and fizz gently in her hand or if it would blow Yaxley clean through the wall.

"Come now, Mafalda, you can surely relax enough to kiss me properly," Yaxley said, pulling away enough to stare into Hermione's face. Hermione found that she was holding on to Yaxley's shoulders for dear life and that Yaxley was not looking as lustful as he had just a few seconds ago. In fact he was starting to look decidedly suspicious.

"I just," Hermione sputtered, "I think Dolores knows," Yaxley quirked one brow, as if to say he didn't rightly care, "That we're in here. Together. That we're having,"

"Let me take your mind off of her," Yaxley said, the tension around his eyes lessening as he chalked up Hermione's—Mafalda's—odd mood to the fact that she was experiencing a bit of stage fright.

"We have to be quick," Hermione said, hoping that he simply wanted to kiss her and perhaps grind against her through his clothing and that he certainly didn't want to… Hermione stumbled as Yaxley's arms once more wrapped around her waist and grabbed the band of her skirt, deftly undoing the zipper. For a horrified moment Hermione stared past Yaxley's shoulder at the wall and simply tried to process the fact that her skirt was now puddled around her feet.

"You know I don't like quick," Yaxley growled, moving to sweep Hermione in to his arms and deposit her atop the closest table. For the first time Hermione noticed that they appeared to be in an empty meeting room. The odd table and chairs strewn about with a few sconces of light illuminating the place. A fireplace was at the far end but it seemed filthy and unused.

"Ruarc!" Hermione cried, almost calling him Yaxley. "Not here!" She begged as Yaxley moved to stand between her legs. Now more than ever Hermione wished that she'd worn the stockings Mafalda had put on this morning but she had thought it too intimate a thing. She had been able to retain her own undergarments, saving herself from having to transfigure her own clothing but now she was worried that she had been foolish in overlooking the smaller details of Mafalda's outfit.

"Aye," Yaxley growled, "Here." He pulled her tight against his chest once more, his mouth crashing against hers as he pressed his groin between her legs, gently rocking in to her before a hand came down to cup her cloth covered center.

"I can't!" Hermione said heatedly, trying to push against Yaxley's shoulders.

"Is it that,"

"No!" Hermione cut in as Yaxley gently withdrew his hand, his eyes subtly darting to the side to check for blood. "No," She said softer, "We just can't… not at the Ministry."

"That's what you said last time," Yaxley said on the verge of a snarl. "My time is becoming precious, Mafalda. Either you wish to continue this or,"

"Of course I want to continue… this," Hermione said hurriedly, reaching to curl her hands around the back of Yaxley's neck to draw him in for a kiss. "I'm just nervous. We can't get caught."

"I said before we won't," Yaxley said, sounding a deal more annoyed than aroused as he had been earlier.

"If you insist," Hermione whispered, trying to smile as she smoothed one hand down his chest to end just before she cupped his groin. Her hand shook the tiniest bit as she felt him through his trousers, her eyes locked on his as she gasped to feel the weight and size of him. She had only ever accidentally brushed her hand against Viktor's penis when they had been kissing and that had been one time and one time only. Every other instance with the mail anatomy had come from textbooks or that terrible embarrassment with George when she had accidentally walked in on him showering at the Burrow.

"You seem… off today," Yaxley said, trying to ignore her gentle rubbing movements.

"It's my nerves," Hermione said dismissively—or she hoped so at least—and squeezed Yaxley a little more firmly. He groaned deeply, pushing in to her hand and forgot about her little oddities.

"Damn your nerves," Yaxley moaned, taking her hand in his and pressing it harder against him before he lent in to kiss her again.

It was weird for Hermione to be in possession of Mafalda's body because while each caress and kiss and squeeze seemed new to her, Yaxley was obviously very practiced in how to excite Mafalda because there rapidly came a point where Hermione couldn't help her own groans and moans and other encouraging sounds. And suddenly it wasn't so very weird to be sitting on a table, sans skirt and undergarments, with a Death Eater between her legs.

"Why ever were you so Missish?" Yaxley asked, the sound of his trouser's zipper louder to Hermione than Yaxley's voice, even considering the fact that Yaxley's lips were pressed against her left ear as his hands fought to make contact with her bare breasts under the tight confides of her top.

"We could be caught," Hermione said, knowing that she was just repeating her earlier arguments and that she would have to soon change her tactics.

"We won't," Yaxley affirmed.

"I've been gone too long."

"They can wait until we're done."

"What if I smell?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening as she felt something very long and rigid brush her inner thigh. It had taken all of her will power not to run out of the room as Yaxley had stripped her of her underwear and now, she wished she had run out of the room, consequences be damned.

"Use your head witch," Yaxley chuckled, "Freshening charms are for more than just putting to rights wind-swept hair from a long broom ride." Yaxley pulled back a moment, chuckling again as he stared down at his member. Slowly, Hermione caught on and narrowed her eyes at the unintended double entendre. Men.

"Ruarc, are you sure we can't put this off?"

"Put this off?" Yaxley asked incredulously. "Tell me something, do you wish to _put_ _this_ _off_?" Hermione gave a long, drawn out gasp as Yaxley placed his hand over her bare crotch and slipped two thick fingers inside of her. He did something strange and suddenly Hermione found herself staring up at the dimly lit ceiling as she fell backwards on the table, groaning in a mix of pleasure and wonder at the new sensation. She had only ever touched herself like that a few times before but found the overall feeling to be uncomfortable. But in Mafalda's body with Yaxley as the seasoned and well versed lover, it felt heavenly. Still a bit odd but pleasurable and the loveliest pressure was building low in her abdomen so that she was pushing her hips to meet Yaxley's thrusting fingers.

"As I thought," Yaxley said quietly, moving his thumb to press against Hermione's clit. Hermione cried out, her inner muscles and thighs clenching hard against the electric bolt of pleasure, but more precisely, clenching around Yaxley's hand that was still insistently grinding and thrusting in to her.

Hermione gave a few more weak cries as Yaxley slowly brought her closer to climax but he stopped short of her achieving her first orgasm—even if it _was_ in Mafalda's body. "Ruarc?" Hermione asked in slight confusion as Yaxley removed his hand, a squelching sound greeting Hermione's ears, causing her to turn red in embarrassment. Surely that had not been sexy in the least but Yaxley didn't seem to mind as he used the fluids still thickly coating his fingers to rub along his shaft. Hermione sat up on her elbows, still a faint pink as she watched with a great deal of trepidation as Yaxley guided himself to her.

"You're still a bit tight," Yaxley murmured, more focused elsewhere than coaxing Hermione in to sex. "It may sting," He said, as if apologizing before pressing the head of his erection against her mons. Hermione tipped her head back, breathing deeply through her nose and coaching herself to relax, relax, relax. It would only hurt worse if she was tense. Yaxley had seen that she was suitably ready but she needed to remain calm. Even if her first time—in somebody else's body no less—was with a Death Eater. And not the love of her life. Or even someone she remotely loved.

Hermione blew out a long breath as she felt Yaxley's member slide inch by inch inside of her, groaning in a moment of pain as Yaxley moved her thighs further apart, causing her to clench around him painfully. Yaxley paused, panting as his hands cradled her thighs, his brow screwed up in a bit of a question. Most likely wondering why Hermione—in reality Mafalda—was being so difficult.

"Shh," Yaxley soothed, one hand gently smoothing along her leg as he carefully nudged deeper and deeper inside of her until they were flush together. When they were, Yaxley closed his eyes and groaned loudly, his head tipped back, simply enjoying the sensation of his cock enveloped in such wet heat.

Hermione tried to do the same but she was more caught up in the feeling of being so full down there and every couple of seconds she could feel Yaxley's member softly pulse or jump inside of her.

"Clench around me," Yaxley quietly begged, groaning again as his thumbs pressed in slow circles against her thighs. Hermione looked up at Yaxley, unsure of how to voluntarily do so. Did he mean her thighs? Was that what he meant?

Deciding she was too slow, Yaxley pushed up one side of Hermione's top and ran his fingers along her side in feather light touches causing Hermione to laugh and clench around Yaxley's cock. They both groaned and suddenly Yaxley was pulling away from Hermione and she could feel the vacuum like quality it was producing because without even trying her body was trying to pull Yaxley back to her. Yaxley gently worked himself free, pushing forward and then pulling back until only the tip of him remained inside of Hermione.

It felt pleasurable, if a bit strange but the simple push and pull motion didn't seem to satisfy Yaxley because he was pushing harder in to Hermione, his movements longer and harder until he was thrusting against her, his hands moving to grasp her hips.

Hermione had given up trying to maintain balance on her elbows—anyway they were starting to chafe—and had simply resigned herself to lying back on the table and enjoy endure this. This was her first true sexual experience and she was trying not to analyze it too much because if she thought about more than the way she tingled every time Yaxley thrust forward and hit _just_ that spot to the right, she would start to think about the Polyjuice Potion and if it was still working. And if Harry and Ron were all right. And if Umbridge was still waiting for her. And a thousand other things. It was simply much safer to only dwell on the fact that Yaxley was well endowed and that he was pressing his thumb back on her,

"YES!" Hermione cried as she felt the electric jolt of earlier when Yaxley had touched her clit. But this time he didn't make a few casual presses against her, he worked against her in tandem with his ever increasing thrusts until Hermione was squirming and running her hands over Yaxley's chest to pull him down for a kiss.

Yaxley didn't remain bent over for long, instead he moved to grab Hermione by the back of the knees, lifting her legs up higher and around his waist so that he could drive faster and even harder in to her. Hermione was keening, she had never known she could do that, but she was and Yaxley was having trouble keeping rhythm as she fought to meet him thrust for thrust.

This is what an orgasm felt like, or at least the build up to one, and Hermione was positive she was close to climax. But even if she wasn't, the feel of Yaxley's member sliding in and out of her, his thumb reminding her of other erogenous zones, was satisfying enough in that moment to qualify her first time as rather fulfilling. There had barely been any pain. A limited number of awkward moments and Yaxley really was a great kisser. And she really liked the way his hands felt against her skin. It made her feel wanted—even though it was Mafalda he really wanted.

"Mafalda," Yaxley groaned, any pretense of control gone as he nearly pounded in to her, the table shuttering beneath them. "Tell me," he moaned. "Tell me your close."

"I am," Hermione said, unsure if she really was or not. Yaxley released one of her legs, planting that hand above her shoulder and slowing down so that he could thrust into her long and hard. Each thrust jostled Hermione, scooting her further up the table but Yaxley pulled her back to him, panting as he fought for a sliver of control. Hermione was happy for him to lose control because while this new rhythm was just as exciting it did not have the same level of building euphoria. She could feel every thrust individually now, could feel the gentle slap of his sack as it brushed against her ass, the whisper of the hair on the tops of his thighs against her own and she could feel the heat of his breath on her collar bone. It felt more like quickly touching an electric fence, causing her to clench around him tightly.

"Tilt your hips up," Yaxley said, hiking her leg higher. Hermione did and suddenly her world was bursting into a thousand different colors as she screamed, her arms thrown around Yaxley's shoulders, nails digging in to the material of his suit jacket. Her body was pulsing and clenching and seemingly being hit by wave after wave of unbearable pleasure. It started from where they were joined, the strongest and most fierce and radiated outward until Hermione thought she couldn't bear it. She was nearly sobbing, almost too sensitive to have Yaxley still inside her, still thrusting until he too came, his own cries lost to Hermione's as he pulsed inside of her.

Some time later, or perhaps merely a minute, Hermione felt Yaxley sluggishly pull away from her completely, the sound of her body releasing his member only a faint 'pop' as they both continued to gently writhe and moan.

"Tell me again that you wanted to put this off," Yaxley teased, giving her a lingering kiss before slowly putting himself to rights.

Hermione tried to keep pace with Yaxley's long stride but it was difficult in her skirt and she felt uncomfortably aware of the fact that she was not wearing underwear. Yaxley had refused to give it back to her and said that they didn't have time to fight over something she was never getting back.

"Here," Yaxley said, coming up short to the door that led in to the hearing rooms. "These are the papers Dolores is expecting," Yaxley said, his face now just as grave as when Hermione had first seen him.

"I'll make sure she get's them," Hermione said, turning to go in to the room. Yaxley stalled her, taking her in his arms quickly and kissing her soundly. Arms full, Hermione couldn't push him away and moaned in to his mouth as he sought to taste all of her in one fell swoop before yanking himself away. Dazed, Hermione watched as Yaxley entered the room, slamming the door closed. Well, she was certainly not going to tell the boys about this and having Yaxley in the hearing room was going to make it considerably more difficult to get that damn locket. Harry and Ron had better get there soon.

—

AN: Other names that I had tossed around for Yaxley before choosing Ruarc were: Cahal, Cahir, Caius, Cillian, Conall, Ephraim (don't fucking ask), Logan, Murchadh, Orjan/Oran, Ronan, Reagan, Rordan, Walter, Weland, and Wilhelm. Suffice to say I went through a lot of names and only really knew that I wanted a 'C' or 'R' first name but still did not come up with something that sounded right. It was a bit like naming a child that is not mine… well probably because Yaxley isn't my brain creation and that is exactly what I did. Name something that was not mine to begin with and it was ungodly difficult.

Aside from all that, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


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